


The Supermarket Slave

by Floris_Oren



Series: Collar me willing [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Duct Tape, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, More tags to be added, Neal is kinda depressed but for now it's nothing he can't handle, References to Depression, Slavery AU, The FBI - Freeform, it just doesn't fit the story, sorry that I couldn't work the kinks in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floris_Oren/pseuds/Floris_Oren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>El is away on a ladies week-retreat leaving her husband and their slave to entertain themselves for a week. Neal never meant to find a crook in the local supermarket, these things just tend to happen to him. No really. </p><p>*ch1 is a sneak preview*</p><p>EPILOGUE IS UP - PLEASE READ A/N ON THE FUTURE OF THIS SERIES IF YOU HAVE FOLLOWED OR BOOKMARKED THIS SERIES. NOT ENDING IT. DON'T WORRY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SNEAK PREVIEW

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS TO LET PEOPLE KNOW THAT I AM STILL ALIVE. :)  
> I haven't been able to write for a couple weeks, now, not since I finished the last slave story in this series. I know, it sucks. Anyway, I wanted Neal and Peter to have some time alone. So reasons. Also. I moved. Again. From Texas to Colorado so last week was spent packing and spending time with family before coming home. I'm glad to be back. And even though I may be babysitting my sister's kids a lot, just know that I am going to do my best NOT to get behind on this story.  
> And to prove it, here is a SNEAK PREVIEW. :) or trailor...whatever.

_**SNEAK PEAK** _

 

__

Men, especially Men like Peter - are shit at shopping. Neal decided as he and Peter made their way through the grocery store. Peter had the list El made for them, ignored El’s not at the top about buying healthy and organic and went straight for the processed stuff. The cart has a few vegetables, Neal could make a chicken soup if he got to the kitchen early enough while Peter is distracted with work. 

 

Neal frowns - the store has a very small “slave” section - it’s all pretty cheap but to get to the lightbulbs they have to go down and pass it. Two men are talking about cheap paddles and how to make it stronger with a quick diy. Extra wood on the back and cover it in fabric from Joanne’s. Peter doesn’t spare them a glance, but Neal’s razor sharp intuition goes red. He didn’t even need to look at them to know all they want to do is make a buck. Low level scam artists who don’t know what they’re doing. The sort that can’t be taught and think they know better. 

 

When one touches his butt, a pinch really. Neal “stumbled” into Peter. A pure accident to anyone looking. Even the scammers miss it. Peter catches Neal and gives him a look. Neal looks down then says slowly. 

 

“Master, they touched your property without permission.” He meant for his words to not be overheard, but the stage whisper carried anyway. The two men. In cheap slacks and button downs, trying to look like Ivy League, rich kids, balked. 

 

“You watch where you’re going!” The blond glared. 

 

“Yeah, your slave was eyeing us!” His darker friend agreed. 

 

“No. He didn’t.” Peter gave a slide glance to Neal who was looking at the ground like any, well trained slave, aught. 

 

“Move along, or I’ll call security and have them review the footage.” Peter indicated a camera in plain sight. The two grew red but left in a hurry. 

Neal licked his lips; “Thank you.” 

  
“It’s fine.” Peter said. Patted the wrist that’s cuffed to the cart. “Next time I’ll deck them.” 


	2. REAL CHAPTER 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal and Peter bond, Jones and Diana are on the game, and people need to learn to keep their hands to themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IS THE REAL CH 1. XD  
> The beginning scene is the SNEAK PEAK but don't get confused and think that's all there is because there's more to this chapter. I wanted to get this up before I got going on other stuff here at home. I'm going to try and update again, Not certain when since my sister depends on myself and Mom to babysit her kids. I also HAVE to clean house today since we're having company tonight. So. please enjoy. I also loved getting all the encouragment I do home everyone likes this chapter.

Men, especially Men like Peter - are shit at shopping. Neal decided as he and Peter made their way through the grocery store. Peter had the list El made for them, ignored El’s not at the top about buying healthy and organic and went straight for the processed stuff. The cart has a few vegetables, Neal could make a chicken soup if he got to the kitchen early enough while Peter is distracted with work. 

 

Neal frowns - the store has a very small “slave” section - it’s all pretty cheap but to get to the lightbulbs they have to go down and pass it. Two men are talking about cheap paddles and how to make it stronger with a quick diy. Extra wood on the back and cover it in fabric from Joanne’s. Peter doesn’t spare them a glance, but Neal’s razor sharp intuition goes red. He didn’t even need to look at them to know all they want to do is make a buck. Low level scam artists who don’t know what they’re doing. The sort that can’t be taught and think they know better. 

 

When one touches his butt, a pinch really. Neal “stumbled” into Peter. A pure accident to anyone looking. Even the scammers miss it. Peter catches Neal and gives him a look. Neal looks down then says slowly. 

 

“Master, they touched your property without permission.” He meant for his words to not be overheard, but the stage whisper carried anyway. The two men. In cheap slacks and button downs, trying to look like Ivy League, rich kids, balked. 

 

“You watch where you’re going!” The blond glared. 

 

“Yeah, your slave was eyeing us!” His darker friend agreed. 

 

“No. He didn’t.” Peter gave a slide glance to Neal who was looking at the ground like any, well trained slave, aught. 

 

“Move along, or I’ll call security and have them review the footage.” Peter indicated a camera in plain sight. The two grew red but left in a hurry. 

Neal licked his lips; “Thank you.” 

 

“It’s fine.” Peter said. Patted the wrist that’s cuffed to the cart. “Next time I’ll deck them.” 

 

Neal smiles and nods. They continue on, a light bulb makes it into the cart. Then they’re picking up some beer. Not that Neal would ever buy wine from a grocery store. He hated to admit it, but he was a wine snob. Not that he could have had any; Peter and El didn’t let him have a sip of beer, therefore, trying to get Peter to buy some wine is definitely out of the question. 

 

They go through the self checkout lane. And Neal spots the two men at the entrance of the store. He’s uncuffed from the cart to load it with their bagged goods; and makes certain the walk on the other side of Peter. They watch him, closely and he knows they’re up to something not at all good. 

 

~*~

 

“And another one bites the dust.” Jones said, slamming the paper down on his desk. He and Diana are pulling a weekend. Peter’s pet case frustrated him, and they sent him away to enjoy his Slave while they tried to crack it. 

 

“Who does these sorts of things?” Diana asked. “The Government sells slaves all the time at a good price, picking them up in a parking lot is a low blow.” She sighed. 

 

“Some say that slavery is a low blow.” Jones frowned.

 

Diana shrugged. “Not my problem, anyway.” 

 

“Nope.” Jones agreed. 

 

“So. We need to look at the local gangs,” Diana said. So far the slave-nappings had gone on in one major, grocery chain, parking lot. Dusky’s had everything from organic potatoes to fine china. If you needed something, they had it, at a low price. Firmly middle to lower class families shopped there, amongst them, FBI Agents, as well. 

 

The Dusky’s on 9th and Sunset Haven was in the worst part of New York. That’s where it had all started. Diana looked at the map. The slave-nappings had trickles out from there. So it had to be their starting point. And besides gangs…

 

“They don’t like to deal slaves, what with the new chip.” Jones said. Diana nodded, again. 

 

“It’s not enough to tie your slave up in the trunk of one’s car, but now they have to have a chip embedded into them. Like a dog...no...worse than a dog.” She grabbed a file. This slave had turned up dead. The tracker wasn’t supposed to kill the slaves, it was supposed to shock them until they went unconcious. This particular tracker, however, had malfunctioned.

 

“This isn’t good.” Jones said, twirling a pencil. “We’re stonewalled by lawyers, the local rats aren’t saying a damned thing about the gangs and we have THREE dead slaves due to the same MO.” 

 

Diana hummed. Her thoughts going back a few months. “We have more than three…” she said. She brought out her phone, pressed in a search’ if she was right… “we really have five.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Think about it. Whoever is doing this, is trying to cover his tracks. We need to find the original inventor of that chip.”

~*~

 

Neal hummed as he stirred the home made noodle sauce. It was the only thing his Aunt was able to teach him before he ran off and started his life of crime; which somehow ended up with him here. At a dead end. Sometimes he thinks of leaving. Taking the collar off and strolling away, maybe going to Ireland for a bit. Where slavery has been illegal for several centuries and where he and Mozz usually send those they save. 

 

But, that meant leaving El and Peter. He’d done it, but always came back. He always found himself with them and the one time he’d tried. He ended up in the Met with Peter sitting beside him. 

 

Peter will always find him. 

 

And somehow, it makes him happy. Yes, he’s bored out of his mind, he wants to paint again, but at the end of the day he’s ensconced between two people who love him. And who, he’s surprised to say, he loves back just as much, if not more for all the shit he’s put them through. 

 

“Hey, Sweet, what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours?” Peter asked. His hand slipped under Neal’s pants to cover the brand fully, and his arm went around and up to grip Neal around the neck. It was a new hold Peter had picked up from Fred. They skyped every week and Fred always had something new he wanted Peter to try with Neal. For his part, Neal took with as much grace as possible. He figured that if he was going to be a slave, he wasn’t going to be one those who thought badly of their Master and just put up with them, like a fond dog. 

 

No. When people talked to Peter or El about him, he wanted whatever they said about him to be genuine and vice versa. He used to be the best Thief this side of the States, now, he was going to be the best slave. 

 

“Nothing.” Neal answered, honest. “I was just musing.” 

 

He kept stirring the pot. Tasted a bit of sauce and gently patted Peter’s arm. “I do need the salt, may I?” 

 

He always wasn’t stupid. If he stretched too much in this hold Peter would take him down, thinking he was rebelling. They’d only made that mistake once, but now both are extra cautious and Peter move with Neal. But the hold is strong and Neal likes it. Finds that it is calming and he hates himself for it. 

 

He’s more ashamed of hiding that little bit of himself he’s always kept back from the beginning. But, as a con man, he can’t change that. It’s ingrained into his very being. 

 

“We’re going to have fun, with all this bonding.” Peter said. 

 

“I hope so.” Neal replied. Then declared the sauce done. “I’ll put the noodles in, do you want me to set the table or would you rather sit in the den? I think there’s a baseball game on tonight.” Neal said. 

 

Peter gave the hip that held the brand a slight squeeze. “Den.” then walked away. Neal put the rest of the food on. 

 


	3. ch 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal see's some con artists in action. Peter is certain something is wrong with Neal and his current case languishes on the side lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo. I guess I have to apologize for the profession of one character. Fern didn't want to do anything else so there you go. But I will say that she takes care of her kids even if she makes bad choices in men. *shrugs*   
> And there are mentions of suicide and depression in this chapter. It came up suddenly. I also like to world build with small details. And I think Neal would see that when he's in his con man state of mind. His job usually relies on body language and what people aren't saying to get what he wants. So...yeah.

Zack’s hand hung out the car window, cig lit and smoking idly as he looked at the people doing their shopping, some going in and some coming out. Beside him, Fern is doing her hair. She’s dressed down today. Normally she’s in something red and shiny, but that would have drawn attention for this little money making endeavor and they didn’t need witnesses to make matters worse. 

 

Behind him Fern’s two kids, Yasmin and Storm are playing with their barbies. They know the drill. Zack’s borrowed them a few times for this ruse and it works like a charm if they target the right slave. 

 

They’re trained to be helpful, especially if a kid asks for help. It’s their duty, if they’ve been government trained. And those always ended up the best trained. Which they wanted for the overseas market. 

 

Cato knocked on the window, drawing Zack’s attention to the left, and to a man they had scouted the previous day. The man walked behind an older fellow dressed in a suite. He didn’t even look back to make certain his slave was following him. 

 

“Okay, Yasmin…” being the younger he was cuter and worked better at this scham. “I need you to go inside and follow that dark haired man, you see man?” Zack pointed the man out. Yasmin was out of her seat and looking. 

 

“The man with the bright blue eyes?” She asked. Zack nodded. “Get him this time, okay?” The warning i his voice made her frown but she nodded and hopped out of the car. 

 

‘Zack, don’t do that to my kids.” Fern glared at him. Her bleached blond hair is up in braids and she looks normal, not the hooker that she’d normally make herself to be. She was technically a stripper and didn’t sell herself for sex. At least she claimed. 

 

Zack rolled his eyes. “Cato, get ready.” 

 

Cato climbed into the back of the car and into the van’s “trunk.” 

 

~*~

 

Neal was doing his best to get the organic food, just to be able to say that he’d tried. Peter was making a game out of putting things back on the shelf when Neal wasn’t looking. Neal picked the items up and hid them under the junk food. Both knew what the other was doing but didn’t seem to care. The game was fun and Peter could practice his own sleight of hand skills. Which was pretty obvious to Neal. 

 

The tug on the hem of his shirt brought Neal up short putting in some all natural sweetener into the cart. He turned and looked down on a doe-haired child with bright purple/storm grey eyes and dressed in a unicorn sleeper with rainbow tennis shoes. “X’cuse me, mister.” The little girl said. “Can ya ‘elp me?” 

 

“Neal?” Peter called. 

 

“Umm...Master...this kid…” Neal turned to Peter who is by now down the aisle. 

 

“I’ll meet you at the milk.” Peter called back. 

 

“Yes Master.” Neal acknowledged. Then he held his hand out to the girl. “What’s your name, sweetcheeks?” He asked. 

 

“Min!” She replied, a smile lighting up her face. 

 

  
“Come on, let’s go to the front of the store. We’ll get security.” He said. 

 

~*~

 

Zack cursed when he saw two men in uniforms put Yasmin into the back of a cop car. She wasn’t crying but she looked despondent. Fern started crying. 

 

“I have to go get her.” Tears run down her cheeks; she started to get out of the car. Zack went for her arm but she was faster. She moved beyond his reach. He struck the steering wheel with a bunched up hand.

  
“Don’t say a word.” Zack growled as she got her other child out of her. Fern grunted but took off to the police car before they could drive away. 

 

~*~

 

Neal waited, watching. The cops hardly had Yasmin in the car before her mother was running up, crying and saying that she’d lost Yasmin in the parking lot and was looking there before moving inside. She and Yasmin were reunited. 

 

_ What a good con _ , Neal reveled in it from afar. No one would question a mother who’s frantically looking for her child. She sounded and acted just like the police needed to just let Yasmin go and call it a day. 

 

Neal turned away and started for the back of the store, towards the milk aisle. But something galled him. Something niggled at that thing in the back of his brain. That part of himself that longed for Paris and another Art theft, it came alive and it was as if he were seeing things in bright color. 

 

He walked past a man who used the whip too harshly if the stooped back of his slave was anything to go by. Another woman and her child bossed a younger woman around, who looked dead and just went through on the motions. The owner didn’t see the slave palm a razor. Neal almost stopped. He passed her when he saw the pain in her eyes and he couldn’t take that away from her. 

 

Why couldn’t all owners be like Peter and El and Fred? They were good. They knew what to do and how to do it, even if Peter was still learning. He took a deep breath, tried not to sigh. Joined Peter and helped him pick out the milk.

 

~*~

Peter hadn’t meant to leave the file out; Neal was dusting before bed. He needed something to keep him busy before he began to think too much. He isn’t certain why he even felt the need to plan anything anymore, it wasn’t like he was going anywhere. Peter had updated the collar to one neal hadn’t the chance to study. Without that knowledge he was tuck. 

And maybe it bothered him a little. Still. 

 

From the couch Peter watches Neal clean, his shoulders are slumped and the vibes he’s trying not to give off don’t necessarily succeed. Peter isn’t working, like he wants. The case is at a stand still. Instead, he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with Neal. 

 

He’s tried asking; but Neal won’t give anything up, tries to act as if he’s….happy….? Peter isn’t certain. 

 

He lets Neal get away with it for now. That is, until he can figure out the problem and fix it. 


	4. Finding your slave's enthusiasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is worried over Neal's depression, so he brings him in on the case. Neal expounds (off screen) on what he'd seen and the case takes off at a dead speed run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I use reusable pads for my period and since El hasn't had a kid, I figure she'd still have her period. Which is why Neal is mending one of her pads. I can't write women using throw away ones. So yeah. 
> 
> I've been baby sitting with my Mom all week. I haven't gotten around to writing but since its nap time, here I am. I hope everyone likes this. It's taken on a different shape than I thought. That's for sure.

 

**_7 signs you know that your slave has depression…_ **

 

Peter sighed at the article. It was a bunch of sensationalism, sadly, that most people believed. Fred had said that sometimes Slaves can get despondent for their old lives and that it was important to recognize their feelings instead of anything else. His weekly skype sessions and e-mails came in handy whenever Peter came across something, that as a Master, he hadn’t experienced before. 

 

And Neal’s past life wasn’t all sort of domestic. It was jet setting across countries and visiting museum’s and any number of things. So far he’d only been out to the supermarket. Besides that trip to Fred’s place. That is. 

 

Peter hummed in thought. Neal was working on hemming one of El’s reusable pads* but he wasn’t humming or talking as he usually did. He’d been very quiet for a long while. The case files piled on the dining room table took his eyes from Neal. And that’s when Peter had one of those lightbulb moments he hoped he wouldn’t regret. 

 

“Neal, would you like to help me on something?” 

 

~*~

 

Jones sighed as he left the house, Diana right behind him. The inventor of the chip was not enthused when they had shown up early on a Saturday morning to interview him. He was busy trying to get the government to rescind the device due to the deaths allocated to it. He’d shown the his schematics and talked avidly about how it wasn’t supposed to be used on humans and that he didn’t know what was going on.

 

He was eccentric but neither Agent thought him capable of murder. Nor did they find any evidence of fraud. They were out in the rain without an umbrella as far as this pet case went; Peter wasn’t going to be happy at all. 

 

Jones’ phone rang, speak of the devil; “Yeah?” 

 

“Get over here, we’ve got a break through.” Peter’s voice sounded. Diana frowned, for she had heard. 

 

“Okay.” Jones said. Then hung up. 

 

~*~

 

Neal knelt on the floor next to Peter’s legs as his Master explained the “breakthrough”. Peter spoke excitedly. And when he was done, he smiled fondly down at Neal who blushed a bit at the unspoken praise. 

 

“So, not only are the chips involved but also this supermarket scam?” Jones asked. 

 

“We did ask where the families had gone in the week that lead up to the deaths, that particular Dusky’s was listed.” Diana said. She had the list in front of her. 

 

“We need to re-interview everyone, and we need to know who Yasmin’s mother is, she may hold all the answers we need.” Peter said. 

 

~*~

 

Diana wished that re-interviewing the victims took the form of an 80’s montage. It took them three days to get through all of them, and at least three remembered a child. The other’s remembered two men that Neal had sketched from memory and when shown those sketches they’d positively id’d them. 

 

It was on a Tuesday afternoon that Peter - along with Neal - watched the interrogation of the mother. Fern was adamant that her boyfriend wouldn’t do such a thing. But, Neal saw through her guise. She wasn’t telling the truth. 

 

He glanced over at Peter, who too, hadn’t bought it. 

 

“What do we do now?” Diana asked. She had left the woman alone to get some coffee. 

“We need some sort of evidence.” Peter sighed. 

 

“Has she seen you, Master?” Neal asked. 

 

Peter gave him a firm look; he wasn’t supposed to speak but Neal waited. “No,” then Peter bit the hook. “Why?” 

 

“Because that child came up to me, those two men had singled me out before, how much do you want to bet they still want me?” He asked. 

 

“You want to act as bait?” Peter asked. 

 

“It’s the best option. You can put one of those chips under my skin someplace they won’t find, it needs to be on a frequency they can’t pick up on their device. You can find a chip with the proper app on your phone, we need to either turn it off or make it so that the chip doesn’t give me away before I can get them to talk.” Neal explained. 

 

“I hate to admit it, but your slave does have a point.” Jones said. 

 

Peter snapped his fingers once, and Neal went to his knees and bowed his head. His wrists went behind his back and he tried not to take offence at this, they were in public and everyone expected Peter to have very firm control of his slave while at the office. Anything Neal did could put Peter’s career at risk. 

 

“I’ll take it to Hughs.” Peter said. 

 

~*~

 

“Are you certain you want to do this.” Reese asked. “He is your personal slave, he isn’t held by the government.” 

 

“I know, and I know Neal can pull it off.” Peter said. Neal was in his office, cuffed and kneeling. Peter had the security footage playing in real time on his phone so he could watch Neal like a hawk. The man twitched but other than that, he was doing exactly what Peter had ordered him to. Be patient. 

 

“Wouldn’t you rather use a government slave?” Reese asked. 

 

“Yes, but they didn’t target a government slave.” Peter frowned. 

 

“Well, if you think your slave can do it, I’ll approve it.” Reese said. 

  
“All right.” Peter nodded. The rest will be up to him, and Neal. 


	5. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal's con goes off without a hitch; Peter regret's his life choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I thought I'd have to baby sit all day but nope. My sister took her kids and all I really have to do is help my mom. She got steroid shots in her hands so they wouldn't lock up on her. I still have the kitchen to clean but ya know what. I decided to try and get another chapter up. :) it may be a bit short. But I'm not entirely certain how long I want this all to take. I am thinking two more chapters.   
> But now, if anyone has an idea of what's to happen between Neal and his captors, its time to tell me. ;)   
> I don't mind working on a wish list and if it doesn't show up in this story it probably will when I get another idea for this series. Which I don't but I was thinking ultimately Neal will get his freedom. Not sure as to how but whatever. *shrugs*   
> Please enjoy.

It’s the deep of night, when all is calm; only the creaking of the house accompanies one’s thoughts on life. Warm hands around his chest and waist pulled him into a solid chest. The soft breath from his sleeping partner told Neal that he was the only one a little bit worried about the upcoming con. 

 

“We call it a sting….” Peter’s correction rang in his ears. Neal huffed silently. Who’s the expert here? He wondered to himself. He had not voiced that dissenting opinion. There were just some things one didn’t say to other people. 

 

But this was not his ritual. His ritual was to stay up late looking at the floor plan; rehashing the con and coming up with a second plan, or a third and fourth just in case. He liked to play it safe. Not too safe. Min. otherwise things would get boring fast. 

Still, he saw the sunrise and Peter waken with an aborted snore; hands stretched over him. He hadn’t been tied down. At least, not for a while and since he had never moved Peter hadn’t felt as if he had to tie the former con man down. 

 

“You okay?” Peter asked. 

 

“Yes, Master.” Neal said, trying for bright and sunny. It must have worked because Peter pushed him out of bed. They still had thing to go over, this had to be done by the book even if Neal was essentially getting himself “kidnapped”. 

 

Neal smiled kindly; Peter’s lecture about what to do was endearing. He really cared. And that part of himself that wanted to be free, was silenced because Peter was acting more than just his Master, he was worried. Neal was property after all, but this was different. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Peter has the water running for a joint shower and Neal is stripping. 

 

“It’s just…” he thinks about his words very carefully. “You’re treating me like a person, not like your property.” Neal replied. He looked away shyly. Because it seemed appropriate. 

 

Peter grunted, but didn’t say anything, only, he pulled Neal into the shower and instead of ordering him to wash his Master, Peter washed Neal instead then himself quickly. 

 

~*~

 

Diana is readying the chip that’s to be inserted into Neal’s elbow. It’s on special loan from the CIA, how Reese had gotten it was anyone’s guess but the theory around the office was that he used to work as an overseas operative before “retiring” to the FBI. 

 

Neal closes his eyes and turns his head away as she puts the needle to his arm. The pinch hurts and he can feel the chip going under his skin. It’ll leave a bruise. He knew they should have done this sooner. Maybe. But he wasn’t allowed to question Peter’s team so he kept such opinions to himself. 

 

“We’ll have to dig it out after.” Peter said, he sounded somewhat resentful of that, no doubt he’ll go for the civilian chip, once the recall was over and it was fixed. Neal definitely had to talk him out of that one. Or get Mozz to hack the system. He always liked an out. Thank you very much. 

 

“Okay, ready?” Peter asked. 

 

“Yes, Master.” Neal pulled the long sleeve of the slave button down, office typ shirt, over his arm to hide the puncture wound. Then he pulled on a jacket. He looked smart even in these dress up slave clothing, though they still looked a bit like scrubs. The only way anyone could tell he was a slave was by his ID number embroidered over the pocket on the left side of the jacket. 

 

~*~

 

Neal wondered silently to himself, he was “shopping” alone. This was new for he’d never been allowed out anywhere alone. Well, not in a very long time, at least. He put random things in his basket but always acted like the slave he was expected to be. 

 

They’d done their research, the men had appeared despite their little set back the other day and looked to be targeting a younger slave woman. Neal put himself between them and her to be noticed. All an “accident” and they did take notice. They followed him discreetly and Neal even paid for the items he’d put into his basket. With Peter’s card, which he hoped the man wouldn’t notice until just then or later. Either way, he hoped to impress Peter just a little bit. The spanking would be worth it. 

 

He’s by the “car” when someone comes up and taps him on the shoulder. 

 

Neal turns to see a man about his age, maybe a little older, blond, and his partner, the same two who had touched him earlier that week before Neal had made the connection. 

 

“Slavery is too good for you.” The blond one said, “we’ve been trying to get you all this time.” 

 

“And what makes you think you can?” Neal sniffed. Acting as if he was above the two. It was to get them angry. He was goading them into taking him because otherwise they could just beat him up and leave. Beating a slave for being rude wasn’t against the law and the slave would be blamed for the beating. It was a shit law. 

 

The darker man moved lightning fast, Neal barely saw the needle until it was embedded in his upper arm. The plunger went down and the drugs coursed through him faster than he anticipated. 

 

He felt woozy and weak in seconds. The blind kidnapper caught him. Said something stupid to whoever was passing by and dragged him away from the car. 

 

Their van sped off with a sleeping Neal inside, but with the FBI on their tail’s. 

 

~*~

 

Peter kept himself from swearing. 

 

“We’ve got a signal, they’re heading down town.” Jones said. 

 

“Follow them.” Peter ordered. He knew this was a bad idea. 

 


	6. Right Angles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sting goes down with less trouble than the author was even expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dragging my heels on this story because I haven't been able to figure out the ending. So, here it is. There is an epilogue that should be done and posted today. 
> 
> *if someone ties your hands with duct tape just find a table or something sharp at a right Angle, you can cut the tape easily that way. 
> 
> *This is how they got Obamacare passed. No one could read it because it was so fucking long before it was voted on so I used this real life bullshit in this universe. :(

They used duct tape to restrain him; Neal breathed slowly, acting as if he were still out. The drugs had left his system, he approximated, about half an hour ago. They might be fast acting but they don’t keep people out long, there’s a slight itching in and around the spot they’d stuck him. He might be slightly allergic to whatever they used, or it could be part of the side effects. 

 

They had lain him on the floor and left, the basement is rather cold and very quiet. He can hear footsteps and laughter every now and then. But it’d been quiet for about five minutes and Neal decided to have a little bit of fun. 

 

He sat up and sighed in relief when he saw the wooden pillar that kept the main weight of the house up. He crawled over to it, turned, and sawed through the duct tape easily. Any right angle can get you out of tape. 

 

Unrestrained. Neal had the run of the basement. There were many implements for abusing slaves. But, one thing that was very worrying, the CIA chip finder lain in plain sight. Neal muttered a soft curse. He wasn’t allowed such language but mouthing it wouldn’t get him into much trouble. He’s screwed if they find the chip. 

 

But, he’d always wanted to get a look at it, he’d seen it once, when Mozz was messing with it about three years ago. Neal couldn’t do it without bypassing the little alarm that no doubt would be loud enough to alert his kidnappers upstairs. 

 

He had to speak to Mozz. 

 

A bit more snooping revealed a large, plastic container with cell phones. Neal cannibalized several to put together a working model. His own wasn’t anywhere to be seen*. 

 

He pushed the numbers in; and in seconds Mozz answered. “I don’t recognize this number.” 

 

“It’s me. I need your help.” Neal quickly explained what was going on. Mozz walked him through the procedure to bypass the alarm and change the settings on the chip wand. 

 

“Thanks. Lose the phone.” Neal said. 

 

~*~

 

“Okay, but you know how you can find me.” The mystery man replied. The phone went dead. Peter frowned. The rest of his team were quiet. They had known Neal had friends, but they could also tell that it hurt Peter that Neal hadn’t called him for help. 

 

Sure they didn’t know how to do anything that this Mystery man knew and told Neal. They could have faked something. Or called the whole thing off; they had enough evidence to arrest the two on kidnapping. That was at least a year in jail. 

 

Diana and Jones surreptitiously watched Peter; who had gone from offended to angry. Neither said anything. And then Peter’s phone rung. He put it on speaker. 

 

“Hello?” 

 

“Master?” It was Neal. 

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Peter growled. 

 

“Please listen, Master. I know I’ve disappointed you but this is important. I couldn’t let them find the chip but I couldn’t hide the wand, I needed to get past it. And I know you can’t do that and I don’t want to be pulled out. Please trust me.” 

 

“And you can’t trust me?” Peter demanded. 

 

“Peter. You know what I can do, but sometimes I need someone with more expertise than myself and in that case, it wasn’t you. But, if it helps. I know that when those two come down to beat my ass, you’ll rush in here and get me.” 

 

Something crashed in the background, Neal hissed something. What Peter couldn’t tell. Then the phone went dead. 

 

“I think I can get the connection back without them knowing we’re listening in, the phone he’s using isn’t at all secure….” Jones said. He typed away at the keyboard until they could hear voices once more. 

 

~*~

 

“The fuck did you do?” A woman’s voice sounded. An elderly voice. Neal cringed and quickly hid the phone. The red light was on, which told him that after he’d quickly hung up on Peter that his team had reestablished the connection, so that they could listen in. Neal turned, tried to look scared. 

 

“I want to go home, back to my Master.” He said as quiveringly as he could. Women tended to feel more and be moved by someone’s plights more than men. Especially by children or very scared slaves. 

 

“Mama?” The blond questioned as he came down. 

 

“Zack, I told you not to use duct tape.” The woman growled. She glared at Neal who stood still as Zack came over with handcuffs; he flexed his wrists smaller. Knowing he could slip these in seconds. 

 

“Get those clothes off him, slaves should be naked.” The woman ordered. 

 

Neal slipped out of Zack’s grasp; giving the woman a stare down. “And exactly what do you think you’re going to get away with here? My Master works for the FBI.” he informed them. It was more posturing. 

 

“I knew you weren’t as scared as you came off.” The woman smirked. 

 

“We’re selling you, overseas.” She said then. “I know that the Queen of Sudan would love to have a lovely one like you.” She smirked. 

 

“I’ve absolutely no intention of letting you get that far.” Neal smirked. 

 

Now. if anyone had bothered to check The Slave Empowerment Act of 2011. On page 1,267,000 - clause 8, line 12ii. They would have found a small sentence, snuck in there near the end when the double checking had been done. Before the voting but there were so many pages 

that no one ACTUALLY knew what was in the damned law* - A sentence that said in an extreme situation where a slave feels that their life is endangered, they can fight back. 

 

Neal slipped the cuffs. Zack shouted for Cato, the woman screamed and even though he didn’t punch anyone, Neal was still able to slip past them and up the stairs. The front door was kicked in by the FBI who had their guns drawn. Neal swerved out of there way, but Peter stopped to pull him into a hug. 

 

“You did a great job in there buddy.” Peter praised him. 

  
“See where trusting me gets you?” Neal replied cheekily, yet, he leaned into Peter. Needing the reassurance that his Master’s Arms brought him. 


	7. Epilogue - Crookhaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter unknowingly (or knowingly as the case may be) stumbles across Mozz and Neal's Underground Railroad. Mozz skips the country and this is basically just a set up chapter for a Mozz side story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am at a loss as to where I want this series to go. I feel like I'm a writer at the USA, I've got ONE plot point and no story and I can't just hinge the whole plot on it. Seriously.   
> Anyway, I may do a SHORT SHORT SHORT SHORT MOZZ side story where we see more of the underground railroad that gets slaves to Ireland/Israel from the US and other countries. Neal will probably not be included in that one. I hope that's not a problem for anyone. I haven't actually written a whole story the hinges on Mozz so it'll be different.   
> This is ALSO the end of the line; speaking of trains.....This story is finished.   
> Thank you for reading, I do hope you liked taking the ride with me.

 

“Cato, Zack and Maria Fence pled guilty.” Peter said, some several months later as if Neal hadn’t been following the progress through the News. 

 

“As if they’ll get more than a year.” Neal muttered from where he was mopping the floor. 

 

“We were able to find more of their victims. They’re being returned even as we speak, it took a while to get the various countries to agree. Ireland won’t even budge, but, apparently those slaves were transported there by someone else.” Peter said, a bit more sly than he wanted. Neal picked up on the tone, shrugged, and didn’t say a word. 

 

“Neal?” Peter sounded more firm. 

 

“I am not going to narc on slaves who have found freedom, Peter, that isn’t how it works.” Neal returned. 

 

“And nothing is going to get you to talk?” Peter asked. 

 

“Nope.” Neal shook his head. 

 

“Not even if we find out the identity of your friend?” Peter asked. 

 

“You can try.” Neal smiled. 

 

Peter frowned; “You’re smuggling slaves out to Ireland, aren’t you?” 

 

“I admit nothing.” Neal shrugs again. 

 

“You’re going to the Government detainment facility when I found out.” Peter said, then he walked out of the kitchen. Neal gulped. But he didn’t rush for the phone. 

 

~*~

  
  


Mozz sipped an Irish Chardonnay that he couldn’t pronounce since the label was technically Gaelic. The small pub - Crookhaven is a small village. Populated by freed slaves from all over the world, can hardly be found on a map, it’s quiet and simple. 

 

And quite protected by the Irish government; Mozz knows he’s lucky to have them on his side. They’re a bit better than the United States which are surely, but slowly, changing their laws. With a bit of help from the Underground. 

 

“Mr. Haversham?” the Irish lilt is from Dublin. The woman sits down at the table next to him, pours out her own portion of wine. 

 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to drink on the job?” Mozz asked. 

 

“Ireland isn’t as strict.” the woman shrugged. 

 

“What’s the word on Neal?” Mozz asked. He had skipped the country right after getting off the phone with Neal. That safe house was lost to the feds now, not that they’d find anything. 

 

“He’s safe. He hasn’t tried to make contact with you, but if he does I’ve someone that can take the message and won’t get in trouble when the FBI knocks on his door.” she replied. 

 

“Irish Consulate? That’d just give them more of a clue.” Mozz frowned. 

 

“Israel is safe harbor for slaves as well.” 

 

Mozz rolled his eyes; “Clever girl.” 

 

“Thank you.” she smiled. 

  
Together they finished off the wine, and decided to take a walk out by the fay mounds. 


End file.
